


Each Day You'd Rise With Me

by anniebibananie



Category: Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Casual Sex, Explicit Sex, F/M, Friends With Benefits, Idiots with Feelings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-02
Updated: 2019-06-02
Packaged: 2020-04-06 15:34:20
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,492
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19065508
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/anniebibananie/pseuds/anniebibananie
Summary: In which Jaime and Brienne have sex first, and... figure out their feelings second.He rolled his eyes. “I’m barely buzzed.” He reached up a hand to scratch at his scalp, messing his hair up further. “I still think we should have sex.”Usually, Brienne changed the subject. Sometimes, she threw away the comment with a joking remark or a roll of her eyes. Today, she was annoyed and tired enough to do something else.“Fine,” she said with a sigh.





	Each Day You'd Rise With Me

**Author's Note:**

> pretty explicit folks!! title from hozier's 'sunlight'

“I think we should fuck.”

Brienne brought a hand up to her forehead, pinching the bridge of her nose. It wasn’t the words exactly—it wasn’t even the first time Jaime had _suggested_ it—it was the way he said them. Looking at her, a soft heat in his eyes, his hair messy and falling into his face.

“You say that most times we’re drunk,” Brienne said.

He rolled his eyes. “I’m barely buzzed.” He reached up a hand to scratch at his scalp, messing his hair up further. “I still think we should fuck.”

Usually, Brienne changed the subject. Sometimes, she threw away the comment with a joking remark or a roll of her eyes. Today, she was annoyed and tired enough to do something else.

“Fine,” she said with a sigh.

“ _Fine?_ ” he asked, eyebrows shooting upward.

Brienne rolled her eyes anyways before turning toward him, squaring her shoulders and arching a challenging brow. “If you’re going to be annoying about it until you’ve gotten it out of your system, then just _get it out of your system._ ”

They were sitting on opposite ends of their couch, legs meeting in the middle. One of his was crossed over one of hers, and it had been for almost the last half hour as they finished off their beers. Looking up at his face, it was clear he was shocked. She didn’t know why he continually bothered to suggest it, though, if he wasn’t going to _do_ something about it.

“Really?” he asked with a brow raised.

She nodded. Their gaze felt more heated, and she could feel her throat dry up. “I won’t keep reassuring you. The offer disappears in—”

There was no need to finish her words because he was practically throwing his empty bottle to the ground and crawling up her to get to her lips, and he paused for only the barest of seconds to make sure she was ready and then he was plunging forward.

Their lips didn’t fit together at first—too sloppy and needy—but they found the right movement after a beat. Brienne grabbed at his shirt, pulling him closer. She had forgotten the feeling of want—in herself, from another. It consumed her dangerously, and she needed only more.

She opened her legs and Jaime slipped between them. Already he felt hard, and Brienne wasn’t sure if it spoke more to his general horniness or some actual desire to sleep with her. Either way, the want kept building and she tugged at his locks as he whined into her mouth. Her fingers made shoddy work of pulling off his shirt, and his own went to tug down her leggings.

They fucked on the couch after Jaime pulled out a condom from his wallet Brienne probably would have been more worried about if she wasn’t caught up in the heat of the moment. They fucked hard and fast and unexpectedly. More hurried than Brienne would perhaps have wanted, but it was _Jaime_ her roommate and best friend and _what the actual fuck._

After they’d both come he collapsed into her, the two of them breathing erratically together. He reached up to kiss at her collarbone, and then he dipped toward the coffee table and grabbed the television remote. He switched it to the news.

“Hey,” she said as she dipped closer to pull it from his hands. “I was watching that.”

“We were literally just _fucking_ how in the world were you _watching_ that?” he asked. He was still half-lying on her, and not even the familiar arch of his brow in question could make her forget that neither of them were wearing pants.

“It’s the game. I want to at least keep up to date on the score.”

“Fine,” he agreed after a second. “We can flip back and forth.”

So, they weren’t really going to _acknowledge_ the having sex bit? Brienne was fine by that. Easier, anyways. Friends who slept together once in a weird sort of dare who then moved on. Cool.

* * *

Later, when they were both wearing pants again and Brienne was rifling through their growing stack of frozen pizzas to decide which one to eat, she turned to him and crinkled her brow.

“What went wrong today?” She held up a supreme pizza in one hand and a meat lover’s in the other. Jaime pointed to the supreme, and she put the rest back into the freezer.

“How do you know something went wrong?”

Brienne slipped the pizza in and set a timer on her phone. Then, she stood back up and leaned against the counter. “You usually only suggest we fuck drunk when something has gone wrong.”

“I do _not_.”

She held up her hand and began counting on her fingers. “Tyrion ditched your museum trip for a date, Arya called you a proper old man, Cersei tried to—”

“Okay,” he cut her off with a grumble. “I get it.”

She didn’t let him break her gaze, and then he shook his head. “Nothing important.” He scratched at the back of his neck.

That didn’t feel right to her, and she narrowed her eyes at him in hopes to make him uncomfortable enough to let her know, but then he was leaving the room and she figured it couldn’t have been that bad. Nothing really got to Jaime Lannister past a few hours before he was moving on, anyways.

* * *

Two days later, Brienne was sprawled across her bed scrolling through twitter when she felt Jaime’s presence in the doorway. He stayed unusually quiet, and she turned on her side to see him.

“What?” she asked with a sigh.

His face looked contemplative, which usually sort of meant he was about to suggest something stupid. Jaime was one of her best friends and she loved him, truly she did, but he only spent a lot of time thinking about ridiculous things. Feelings and serious debacles were thrown to the side with a dangerously carefree attitude.

“I think we should fuck.”

Brienne rolled her eyes. “Wow. Deja Vu. Do you not remember us having this conversation half a million times? And two days ago when we did just that?”

“I just feel like…” He trailed off, face still comically concerned, as he came to the side of the bed and plopped himself down. Brienne closed her laptop and moved it to the bedside table before turning back toward him. “It wasn’t my best work.”

“Your best… work?” she asked, the words coming out of her slow as if she was trying to catch up to their meaning. She shrugged. “I came. You came. Who needs the works.”

“Who needs the _works_?” he asked, face filling with shock. “Oh no, Brienne. That will not do.”

She fell back onto her bed with a humph, trying to ignore the way Jaime’s shock made her feel at least a little inexperienced, a little stupid. It was embarrassing to talk to him about this all, though, especially now that he had done the deed with her. Brienne had far less experience than him, and she didn’t like the idea that he felt as if he was some expert trying to teach her or something.

Jaime moved on the bed, Brienne still not turning to look at him, and then she felt one knee by her hip and suddenly he was straddling her. Brienne met his gaze with narrowed eyes.

“You’re going to be insufferable about this, aren’t you?” she asked.

“Have you known me to ever _not_ be insufferable?” he asked with a smirk.

He was already dipping toward her, and Brienne was about two seconds from pushing him off, but then he was sucking at a spot on her neck and it felt nice enough for her to sink into it. His lips moved down her neck, pushing the strap of her tank top to the side to get full access to her collar bone, before he got to the crest of her breast.

His eyes looked up at her through his eyelashes, annoyingly beautiful eyelashes really, and she gave him a brief nod. Then he pushed the shirt down to suck at her nipple. He grazed it with his teeth, licking and sucking and blowing until she felt her body squirming below him.

“Still hate foreplay?” he asked as he kissed down her stomach.

“If you talk it’s going to ruin this,” she mumbled back, reaching down a hand to dive into his hair.

She scratched at his scalp, tugged it just a little because putting Jaime in his place was one of her favorite things to do, and laughed lightly when he moaned. “Don’t be mean,” he said before crawling up her body to kiss her lips again. She brought one of her legs around his waist to pull him into her, grinding as they kissed heady.

“I don’t hate foreplay,” she whispered in a brief reprieve of kissing. He ground down into her, and she reached her hips up to meet it. “I hate men who think too highly of their foreplay.”

His lips quirked up at the edges, and his free arm was rubbing up and down her thigh in a way that left her even more ready. “Challenge accepted, then.”

She rolled her eyes, and he laughed. Then he was moving back down her body to pull off her pants. As he did so he left kisses over her thighs, her knee, even all the way down to her ankle. Finally, after an agonizing minute, he hovered over her with his mouth. He ran a finger over her and paused for a moment before slipping it in, and then his mouth was on her clit.

The feeling of so much sensation all at once was almost overwhelming, and Brienne let her head fall back to the mattress. She moaned and felt sort of pathetic, but ten minutes ago she had been fucking around on her laptop and now Jaime Lannister was fucking _her_ so she let it slide this once.

Her abdomen was tightening, and she could feel the wave building in her stomach, and if she didn’t _stop_ this—

“Jaime,” she breathed out, diving her hand back into his hair again. He looked up at her and ran his tongue over his lips, eyes hooded and dark. Why was her best friend so hot again? “You should fuck me.”

“I’m trying, love,” he said between breaths.

She rolled her eyes. “I’m going to come if you don’t.”

“That’s the point.” His smirk spread slowly before he dipped down again. His tongue licked the length of her, and he brought his hand to rub quick and sharp against her clit. It was barely a minute until she was coming with a surprised huff. “If I’m doing it right,” he said as he climbed back up her body, “then you can come twice.”

“You… are beyond infuriating,” she said as she grabbed his waist and flipped them over.

He looked pleased to have been thrown back into the mattress, and even more pleased still to see her straddling him now. “I love that lovely flush of pink on your cheeks. So _satisfied._ ”

Brienne rolled her eyes but began to unbutton his shirt, taking her time as she adjusted her hips over his pants because he was too smug. He watched her the whole time, and Brienne couldn’t quite understand the look he seemed to be giving her—a near loss of words which was beyond unlike Jaime. His eyes followed every single small movement she gave, soaking them in.

“I’m going to take your pants off now,” she said. He nodded, apparently still at a loss for words. He licked his lips, though, and she bent forward to kiss him. It was weird to taste herself, but he cupped the back of her head and kept her there, kissing as if he was trying to tell her something she couldn’t quite grasp yet.

When she pulled back he looked sort of wrecked, and as much as he annoyed her she also couldn’t deny the soft spot in her chest for this man. There was a fondness there she usually avoided touching, and in a surprisingly soft gesture she bent forward and left a light kiss on his jaw.

Then she was undoing his belt and tugging down his jeans. They got stuck on one of his legs, and she laughed as he nearly kicked her in his hurry. But then they were off and he was erect in front of her, and her mouth went dry. She grabbed a condom from her bedside table and crept back toward his waist. With the condom in place, she lined herself up and took all of him inside her.

The groan that left Jaime’s mouth at the first thrust made Brienne feel desired in a way she was unaccustomed to, and it shot something hot and greedy within her. With one hand on his chest and the other behind her on his thigh, she rode him for nothing but her own satisfaction.

And somehow that was made hotter by the fact that Jaime clearly found _that_ hot, and she moved faster, the two of them chasing their climaxes together. Brienne came first, but Jaime wasn’t far behind and seconds later his hands tightened on her hips and he was breathing wildly.

“Holy fuck,” he said. It was completely unhinged.

All Brienne could think as she collapsed beside him and watched him push his hair off his glistening forehead was _I did that to him._ She felt as if she had all the power, and she wasn’t sure that had ever happened to her before when she had sex. Most times she left it feeling alright on a good day, perhaps having come and feeling okay, but others had left her feeling awkward in her skin or not good enough.

Here, beside him, she felt as if she was everything. As if she had done everything right and done some things better than that, too.

“Better?” he asked. “Than before, I mean.”

“Perhaps a little,” she teased with a laugh before rolling up to readjust her tank top back into place. “I know we’ve ordered in too much this week, but all I want right now is an egg roll.”

“Fuck it, it’s the weekend, right?” he asked. “Call that place down the street while I jump in the shower.”

He stood up before she could argue with that, just leaving his clothes behind in her room, and she huffed. “I am not your bloody mother, Jaime! Clean them up yourself!”

His laugh was more infuriating than his smirk.

* * *

They had sex again almost a week later when Brienne had a bad day at work and came home stressed beyond belief. _I can help with that,_ Jaime had said with a shrug and then a minute later he was going down on her.

The next time after that Jaime had gotten in a fight with his siblings (what else was new), and Brienne had mostly said it to make fun of him by repeating his words _I can help with that_ mockingly but somehow actually ended up with her giving him a blowjob in the kitchen.

After that it just sort of… rolled and blended together, the having sex thing. They just kept doing it. And doing it. And… doing it.

* * *

The weirdest thing about having sex with Jaime Lannister was the fact that it wasn’t weird at all. In fact, it was bizarrely _normal._ They still grocery shopped on Saturday mornings together, and they complained about their days, but sometimes now when they were sitting on the couch he would suddenly turn to look at her and she found herself sitting in his lap instead so they could make out. Then, well, fuck.

They just... kept not talking about it. And kept not talking about it. Decidedly, _not talking about it._

Brienne didn’t know how to talk about something that didn’t feel like it was actively making their lives worse. It was honestly making it better, and Brienne thought with the idea of that came certain implications of which she didn’t know how to unpack.

Because if Brienne brought up the fact that they had given each other many orgasms, and she wasn’t entirely sure she wanted to _stop_ that, they then had to figure out a sort of label to go with it. Brienne was not ready to try to label her and Jaime because she had spent years of their acquaintance barely being able to call them _friends._ He was her best friend, really, and she didn’t want to somehow mess that up.

So instead they simply… kept not talking about it.  

* * *

They were in his bed this time, his hands on either side of her head as he pushed into her. Clasping the fabric of his comforter in her hands, she arched up to meet him with each thrust. Sometimes, she felt sort of ridiculous the way she gave into him. She let sounds come from her mouth freely, she let her body move the way she wanted it to. There was little thought, only instinct.

“Brienne,” he released in a breath, forehead coming down to her collarbone before he lifted it back up, “you feel so fucking good.” He kissed her briefly—rough and teasing. “Come on, you can let go.” He was only a few centimeters away from her, close enough his breath ghosted over her cheek.

She couldn’t ignore his eyes which seemed to be looking right into her, as if they weren’t simply fucking but he was a man lost and finally he had found _something,_ and when she came she was still thinking about that look. She grasped his upper arm tight enough she feared it would leave a bruise, and she couldn’t get those eyes out of her head.

He had looked at her like salvation. _That_ was the word for what he had seemed to find. She wondered what she looked at him like.

* * *

Brienne tapped her fingers against the counter, moving them in a sort of rainbow. Thumb to pinky, over and over, until she looked up to see Sansa holding the coffee pot and raising a brow at her.

“Are you going to talk about it?” Sansa asked. She motioned with the coffee pot, and Brienne nodded. As Sansa reached into her cupboard to grab a mug, Brienne tried to figure out what to say.

Besides for her disaster of a roommate and recent sex companion, Sansa was the person Brienne was closest to in her life. It also meant she was the one who had heard her bitch about said roommate the last three years living with him. If anyone could understand the situation in front of them, it was probably Sansa, but she was also the most likely to know how absolutely ridiculous it was, too.

“I…” Brienne trailed off and Sansa held out the mug. The heat of it was grounding. “Jaime and I had sex… like more than once.”

Both of Sansa’s eyebrows shot up her forehead after that one. They slowly came back down, and then together. “Huh.”

“Huh?” Brienne repeated, her voice growing a little higher. “If I have somehow made you speechless I’m worried.”

“Well, do you want the full honesty take?” Sansa asked.

Brienne nodded. “If I didn’t I would be talking to someone else.”

“Okay,” Sansa began, leaning forward on the counter to bring her gaze closer to Brienne’s, “it isn’t exactly _surprising._ ”

“Me sleeping with my roommate of multiple years and best friend for longer than that continually for a month isn’t exactly _surprising?_ ”

“A _month_?” Sansa asked. She took a long sip of coffee as she seemingly thought through that one. “No, it isn’t. You both being absolutely bonkers about it, though? Also not surprising, actually.”

“Your confidence in me is astounding,” Brienne deadpanned.

“My confidence in _you_ is through the roof,” Sansa replied as she stood back up to full height. “My confidence in both of you to actually have a normal, adult conversation about your sexual activities and what it means for your relationship? When most of your communication is through snark and sarcasm? Far less than that.”

Brienne wanted to argue, but she also remembered the fact that she had asked Sansa about this was for that exact reason in the first place. Sansa was one of the most perceptive people Brienne knew. It was incredibly useful and incredibly annoying.

“I don’t know what I want. Or how I feel.”

Sansa shrugged. “You don’t have to know exactly. What _I_ know, though, is that Jaime Lannister has been in love with you pretty much the entirety of the time knowing you.”

Brienne stuttered. “I’m sorry, _what_ ? He called me a _beast_ when we first met _._ The first two months of him working at the law firm had us so unbearable we weren’t allowed anywhere near the same projects. We almost got into a physical fight because he stole my soda out of the communal work fridge.”

“Well, Jaime once complimented you by saying you had thighs he believed could crush a watermelon and the arms of a lumberjack. He legitimately thought those were good compliments.” Sansa shook her head with a laugh. “I don’t think we should be surprised his ability to speak coherently about his feelings for you is lacking.”

“Huh,” Brienne said for what she felt would not be the last time today.

“Yeah, huh,” Sansa agreed. “Not that I’m one to talk about acknowledging your feelings in a timely matter necessarily, but I think you might want to consider thinking about what you want from him. And perhaps staying away from his penis in the meantime? Wow, I really never thought I’d be saying that to you.”

Brienne let her face fall into her hands, shielding herself from the look Sansa was probably giving her right about now. “Yeah, I never thought I’d be hearing it,” she mumbled.

* * *

Despite the wise words Sansa gave her, and despite the fact that Brienne was nearing thirty and really much too old for this sort of display in her life, she decided without much decision to ignore Jaime. It was easier than she expected, really, because she knew his schedule like the back of her hand.

She just left for work a little earlier and worked through lunch at the office, and she spent her nights at Sansa’s most of the time. Every time she came into Sansa’s apartment she had to deal with a sort of reproachful look that didn’t exactly inspire confidence, but Brienne could deal with that. If she spent alone time with Jaime she knew she would be faced with either discussing their feelings or end up sleeping with him, and she was severely afraid of both options.

_Can I entice you home with made from scratch lasagna? I’ll even sneak vegetables into it for you like the health freak you are._

Brienne looked at Jaime’s texts and blinked a few times, the words growing more and more in focus. Really, though, it was the word _home_ that was catching in her chest the hardest.

He was, wasn’t he? At some point he had become her home, and she was unbelievably afraid of the possibility of ruining that. What if this all went wrong? Maybe Sansa was overreacting, and Jaime didn’t care about her that way at all. Maybe they were better as friends.

People like Jaime and Sansa didn’t come into your life every day. Brienne had spent enough years alone to know that, and the absolute _fear_ of Jaime somehow getting an excuse to leave, at her own hands too, was crippling.

_Sansa needs help with something, but rain check?_

She just needed a little more time to sort things out, and then she would deal with it all head on. Or at least she would keep telling herself that until it got fixed or she died, whatever happened first.

* * *

It was almost midnight which Brienne knew because when she blearily opened a single eye it was reflected back to her from the alarm clock on the bedside table. There was the sound of ruffling sheets behind her, and she could smell the deodorant Jaime used.

“What are you doing?” she grumbled as she tried to sink further into the sheets.

“I missed you,” Jaime whispered as he crept closer. It spoke to how tired Brienne was that when he threw a hand over her waist she didn’t complain seeing as she couldn’t abide cuddling when she was trying to sleep. That and maybe she sort of was missing him, too. He brought his nose and rested it against the divot of her back, and her breath caught a little. “You’ve been gone.”

“Sorry,” she said, more awake now but trying very hard to ignore the way her heart felt as if it was going to jump up her throat and out her mouth. She missed him, she cared about him, she was letting him cuddle with her and honestly she didn’t hate it and wouldn’t mind doing it more, and _she wanted to do it, didn’t she?_ The actual damn thing. Him and her, more than friends.

Gods, that was absolutely terrifying.

“I’ve missed you too,” she whispered back, and it felt as fragile as china in the big, silent space.

He hummed and huddled closer to her, and she didn’t even push him away when she started to feel too warm. Well, she didn’t for the first few minutes, anyways.

* * *

She woke up earlier than she normally would have because it’s weird sleeping with another person when you weren't used to it, and his face was still fairly docile with sleep. Like this he really did look like a sort of sleeping prince. She probably looked hideous next to him—hair up in a million directions, eyes bleary with sleep—but tried not to think about that and instead enjoy the presence of him.

He shifted, and she tried to pretend she hadn’t been staring at him like a total creep. When he opened his eyes he gave her a soft smile, pulling her closer into him, and he brought up a hand to push some of those wayward strands of hair out of her face.

“Your breath stinks,” he said with a wide smile that was as soft as the light fluttering in through the curtains.

“Good morning to you too.” She rolled her eyes.

His hands sunk beneath the covers, and it rubbed over her hip. It spoke to how used to regular sex she had gotten that the touch alone was enough to leave her craving more. Maybe he was too as he happily leaned forward to suck a spot at her neck.

“Do you wanna…” he trailed off, and Brienne stopped the unfinished thought with her lips.

The kiss wasn’t biting. It wasn’t hurried. It was lazy and slow, languid in a way that made her feel like every part of her was curving into him. He pulled off her pajama pants unhurriedly, and she did the same for his boxers. Finally, he rolled them over, and when he entered her she felt content in every way.

“Jaime,” she released in a breath, and his name did something to him because he couldn’t seem to stop himself from bending forward to kiss spots over her face after that. Her eyebrow and the corner of her lips and each eyelid. “I’m gonna—”

After she had come he kissed her again, soft and familiar. They didn’t normally kiss afterwards. Normally, they collapsed and joked and brought it back to comfortable territory where they were nothing more than jokes to one another. But they also didn’t _actually_ sleep in the same bed together and wake up for loving morning sex.

That wasn't fucking. That was sex with _feeling._ Her throat grew tighter at the thought alone, and she pulled back with a noticeable start. “I need to shower,” she grumbled, pointedly looking away from him. Brienne grabbed her towel from near the door and booked it down the hallway before slamming the bathroom door closed behind her.

* * *

Brienne did well enough ignoring him throughout the day, though there was a near run-in near the printer at work. It wasn’t that she wanted to go back to ignoring him, but the look in his eyes as he had kissed over her face was too much to hold without panicking.

Part of her didn’t even _understand_ it, and the other part did and thought that was maybe more terrifying.

As luck would have it, though, he was home when she arrived back from work. He was in the kitchen, still in work pants and a button-up but already out of his tie. Brienne hated the flash of skin his two open buttons revealed with a fiery passion.

“Making dinner!” he called. “You ran out quick this morning.”

Sighing, Brienne dropped her briefcase by the door and kicked her shoes off. Then she went to the kitchen and leaned in the doorway. “Sorry about that.”

“It’s fine.” He shrugged, though he didn’t turn around. His voice sounded weird, and Brienne had a feeling maybe they were about to get to the big confrontation. He would turn around and tell her it was all a joke or he had grown tired or things got too real and he didn't want to do it anymore. “Actually, it’s not.”

He turned around, and Brienne froze. “It’s not?” she asked.

“No,” he continued, “because you ignored me for an entire week and then this morning we make love—”

“You did _not_ just say make love, Jaime.”

“We _made love_ ,” he continued, though even through his seriousness there was the flash of mischief at the corner of his lips, “and you ditched out again. Do you want to do this or not?”

“Do what?” she asked, eyebrows scrunching together. “If it’s just friends with benefits, I can’t—”

“The first night we ever slept together you asked what I was upset about,” he said.

She nodded, trying to catch up to where he was going. “I did.”

“It was you,” he revealed. “I was upset because I thought you’d never see me more than your fuck-up best friend who’s good for a laugh, and so I suggested we fuck and you took me up on it.”

“I did,” she repeated. She took a step forward. “I still think you’re insufferable. I actually still think you’re my fuck-up best friend, too, but I’d like to try the whole boyfriend girlfriend thing, also. Not to sound like a total novice at it or anything.”

He laughed and reached out his hands to her face, cupping her cheeks too delicately for a man who had bitten more than his fair share of hickeys into weird parts of her body mostly because he knew she hated it the last few weeks.

“I’ve been in love with you nearly from the first time I met you. Honestly, probably from that time you threatened to fight me over a diet soda I stole in the fridge at work.”

“That’s what Sansa said,” Brienne said with a laugh.

“That girl is annoyingly right about most things.” Jaime looked lost in thought for a moment.

“Jaime,” Brienne broke his thought, waiting for him to meet her eyes again. “Now is the bit where you kiss me.”

“Oh,” he said, eyes darting back to the stove, “but I’m making couscous, I don’t want to—”

“ _Insufferable.”_

He laughed and caught her lips with his own, walking them back a step so he sandwiched her with the counter and had leverage to get as close as he could manage. Brienne held him to her, reveling in the feel of him this close to her and _all hers_ for some unbelievable reason.

“How could I resist you with foreplay like that”” he asked when he pulled back. “Insult me some more.”

“You’re mentally deranged.” Brienne laughed. “I hope you’re talking about all of this in therapy.”

“Ooo,” he began mockingly, half-smiling through it, “I do love when you get on me about my mental health. That's sexy.”

She pushed him away, and he went back to the stove. “I really am excited about this couscous so please go change and get ready for dinner.”

Brienne couldn’t believe she had fallen in love with a man who was as ridiculous as this one, but she also was happy to indulge in the ridiculous if it meant being this happy. She wrapped her arms around his waist and kissed his neck for a second before stepping back.

“I can’t believe you’d rather look at couscous than me get naked,” she yelled down the hallway.

“You’re playing _dirty_ ,” he yelled back.

Brienne was pretty sure she could get used to this.

**Author's Note:**

> find me on tumblr: [anniebibananie](http://anniebibananie.tumblr.com/)
> 
>  
> 
> [fanfiction giveaway posted on my tumblr. check it out!!! ](https://anniebibananie.tumblr.com/post/185320011136/hi-its-been-so-fun-writing-game-of-thrones-fic)


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